The Gurly Life

The incident

My first afternoon on the beach, and I'm waiting for Willow and Adam's plane to come in. We are vacationing together and I decided to come in earlier, check in, get some tea and milk for the fridge, and to get a couple of hours of sunbathing under my metaphorical belt. I say metaphorical because, with a bikini, there is a no belt.

Willow and I bought Athleta bikinis, which don't come off even with vigorous activity. However, you do have to do the latch properly if you want your bikini top to stay on, something I failed to do.

I arrived at the beach, which thankfully was sparsely populated, and as I leaned foward to spread my towel on the fine sand beach, my bikini top popped open like a jack in the box, like a bungee cord on the rebound, like a malfeasant poked by an electric cattleprod, and my boobs in all their pastiness bounced out of their restraints with an enthusiasm I can only refer to as obscene.

Good times.

Oh, boy!

Today, this conflagration happened on the freeway I take to and from work.

I hope that bridge is not damaged, otherwise this freeway will be closed for weeks, making traffic everywhere else not fun.

Speaking of not fun, it took me 2 hours to get home tonite because of this. Wheee!

I did get back on said freeway past the kerfuffle, and it seemed like I got on the very first open on-ramp. The freeway in my direction was practically empty, and the freeway in the opposite direction was completely dark, cars were being diverted off it much earlier. You can see the lights of the cars on the other side of the freeway at the end of this little video, otherwise the whole thing is pitch black. Ignore my inane ramblings. It's not a very good video, by the way, but in my defense I just pointed it at the freeway without looking at it because I was looking at the road, which is what you're supposed to do while you're driving, I guess.

The nervous habit to end all nervous habits

Recently I was loitering with a friend and colleague, and she told me about a networking luncheon she attended where she sat near a woman whose nervous habit was ...

...wait for it...

twirling her armpit hair.

Oh yes. Not only were her pits unshaven (who does that anymore? I mean, really!), but she wore a sleeveless top AND she would absent-mindedly pull at and twirl her armpit hair. This was at lunch, with food, mind you. I'm kinda surprised no one said anything to her. I guess when you see that you think, what could I possibly say here? Then you just let it go because there is nothing to say that does not have the word "gross" in it and that does not involve dry heaving. Which is not what you want to do at a networking luncheon.

So, if you were worried that constantly adjusting yourself, or licking your lips, or twirling your hair, or adjusting your clothes, or whatever your annoying habit of choice, well, all I can say to you now is: carry on.

At long last, another breakthrough

I know you've all been wondering: where have those posts gone, the ones where I have some epiphany about myself, and then write about it like I have no sense of decency?

After years of Landmark Education and PAX Programs and various other personal growth stuff, I think I sorted through most of the shittiest stuff. I don't mean to suggest I couldn't use some improvements, the remodeling never really ends, but the focus has shifted from lifting barriers to building skills that I either don't have, or want to improve.

Naturally, as I build skills, I come across a few barriers. After all, if I didn't have the barriers, I'd already have the skills, right?

So here's a really juicy one. I don't like to admit this one because it makes me look very bad, and I don't like to look very bad - just bad enough to be interesting. This has been brewing for a few weeks, and it's probably rambly.

As you know, I have specifically been doing a lot of work in the relationships realm. My goal is to (one day while I'm still young enough to chew my own food) be in a relationship that is empowering and fulfilling. Much of the work I've done in the last few years has been to that goal. In the recent past, my focus has shifted away from my own individual stuff to partnership. I've been looking at what partnership skills do I need, would I like to have, and so on, especially since partnership skills translate really well in every area of life. I figured even if I have no romantic partnership, I still have friends, family, work, neighbors, and so on. Can't hurt, right?

Of course, though, the focus is relationships.

Imagine if you will the setting: it is early evening in Los Feliz, I am going for a brisk walk in the neighborhood, enjoying nature and listening to music on my iPod. I'm feelin' pretty special, with all my partnership skills, and I'm all, check me out I'm totally fabulous, that's me, yup, yup (nevermind that I'm still single, don't use facts to confuse the issues, please, you know how I hate that).

I'm bouncing along thinking about how great I am (this is always a red flag) and how superior I am to all those other women, poor dears, who are actually in relationships that work, and it suddenly hits me, like a turd between the eyes: that I'm often calibrating who I am in order to catch the right guy (not just any guy, mind you, the right one, whatever the heck that means). I suddenly noticed how I watch myself when I interact with men to see if I'm doing it right. And really, what it comes down to is that I haven't been doing all this personal growth stuff to be a better person, but to manipulate the right guy, when I find him, into being with me, because I'm so awesome. Urgh.

Don't get me wrong, there's nothing inherently sleazy about proactively looking for a partner -- it's just that there was something, I don't know, weaselly about how I've been doing it. It's hard to explain, though as you read this you might be thinking, yeah I see it too, but the place I was standing to set my intention was a crappy place. It was like putting ice cream on poo and trying to sell it like a delicious banana split. No, that's not poo, it's chocolate. NOT delicious.

So I walked along a bit more, and thought to myself, what if I do all that I'm doing for no reason at all, just because that's who I am and being a good person is important to me? What a fucking idea!

But that's not all. What also became evident is why I have in the past (thankfully not anymore) been a magnet for married guys. It's a mechanism that I had sort of identified, it had to do with how I engage with men (obviously!), but I hadn't seen the mechanism's agenda. And while I was on my walk, I saw it, and recoiled at the ugliness of it all. Thankfully, it was night, no one could see the grimace on my face, or the gagging. What causes that shift in who I'm being that attracts married men is a voice in my head that says that I want that man to risk something for me, because that means I'm worth something.

What. The fuck. Is that?????

Until I saw that, the best I could is notice when a married guy would start being interested, and bring down the shutters. Not a very empowering defense mechanism, by the way, I don't recommend it. Now I can see it before it even begins. I can hear the voice in my head like I'm some schizo patient off her meds, and I can feel my body shift and my face take on a different expression, it's really weird and creepy. Sooo gross.

All this I saw several weeks before I even left for vacation. I think it was some time in March or April. The first thing that happened was that the emotional charge in the realm of relationships fell away. All of a sudden, I wasn't emotionally invested in getting a relationship. For several weeks, I just didn't care at all about this part of my life. At. All. I forgot to get online to check my profile for weeks at a time, and when I did remember and found no messages from anyone, I'd think, meh, I have to work on my profile anyway, whatever.

Since then I have been noticing immediately when "the married man bomb" activates and have been easily able to disarm it. Over time it is activating less and less and has almost disappeared.

So ... yikes, right?

Now that I've settled, and the married guy issue is disappearing, I'm back doing my work on partnership, and still looking for an awesome guy, sans frustration and disappointment. Thus far, no flopping between white-knuckling it and giving up in resignation.

Now I can get back to the business of playing with my camera, preparing my Guide to Egypt: A Pictorial Representation, and standing on my head for 5 minutes at a time.

Life is good.

Machu Picchu? Really?

Or: Well, that just bloody figures.

A few weeks ago, my good friend Ms. Ranty Pants suggested we enter a drawing by these fine people, Global Base Camps, for a 4 day Inca Trail trek to Machu Picchu in Peru. I never win much of anything, so as a lark, I said, sure, let's enter.

I had a niggling feeling that it was very likely one of us would win because neither one of us is even remotely equipped to undertake such a trip. By not equipped, I mean that with hip injuries, SI joint stuff, and back issues, we are barely one healthy person between us. I shrugged it off and thought no more of it. We both have hip issues, and we're not the roughing it types (don't deny it, Ms. Pants) - left to our own devices, this is not perhaps the trip we would organize for ourselves. I distinctly remember saying, as we giggled on Facebook, watch how we're going to win this thing because we so would just die on the trail. I mean, seriously, I get excited when I can hike for 2 hours without collapsing in pain in Griffith Park, trekking across the Andes was not even a glimmer in the apple of my eye.

I further point out that Machu Pichu hikers have oxygen bottles with them. OXYGEN, PEOPLE, OXYGEN! Yeah. I mean, it's only 8,000 feet in altitude, so I'm thinking it's a precaution rather than a necessity. Cusco, however, where we start, is at 11,000+ feet, so that's a little trickier.

I think you know where this is going. Apparently, I won said trek. Natch, I'm going, and I'm dragging Ms. Pants - I immediately called her and told her so. If I go down, I'm taking her down with me (linky to her perspective on this madness). This is going to be a tale of overcoming hardship - the two "disabled" ladies make it to Machu Picchu, and strike it off their bucket list. Incidentally, it's not even on my bucket list, but whatever. In light of the photo ops that this presents, we'll be going, even if we have to strap on one of those newfangled exoskeletons to get us up that mountain.

Of course there's a small part of me that thinks this is a scam of some sort, but it so absurd and ironic that it can only be legit. I will of course do my due diligence, my hopes having been dashed of being alternatively a Nigerian princess who inherits vast sums of money, or being trusted by one and the only human on the planet who can save her and her inheritance. I thus approach windfalls with a leery eye.

The tour includes [my comments/questions are in square brackets, in case the sheer stupidity is not enough to tip you off]

Camping Equipment: spacious North Face [<--merchandising!] tents, dining tent, toilet tent [a. I should bloody hope so, b. toilet paper will be provided, yes?] tables and chairs, oxygen bottle [wait - what?] and cooking equipment [which, presumably, I will not need to use - see below]. Trekkers need only bring sleeping bags. A licensed, well-trained, English-speaking guide, who visits the clients the evening before departure to explain the trek and answer any questions [my question: is the guide coming with us, or just visiting us the night before and then is all, see ya, suckers!?] Chef and Assistant Chef [because what if the Chef twists an ankle? Who would cook? Not me!] preparing healthy, hearty meals cooked with fresh, local ingredients. Well-paid and well-treated porters [ohmygod porters! How colonial, I love it. No, really, I love it - I don't like carrying things]. We supply the appropriate duffel for you to pack and them to carry [again: LOVE IT]. You carry only a light daypack [my purse probably weighs more than this daypack they speak of]. [One last question: what's the shower situation?]

I am compelled to point out how much I do not like to travel, and how somehow the universe is insisting that I travel. I mean, I love visiting new places, but the actual traveling, with the suitcase and the food issues, and those god-awful plane rides, I do not like. Yet somehow I am always traveling. Either visiting friends or family, or being treated to an awesome Egypt trip by my dad (and it's awesome, wait till you hear about it), or planning a trip to Turkey with Ms. Pants, or being dragged up an Andean mountain kicking and screaming.

I'm a lucky bastard.

Niiiiiice!

In which I'm an asshole. Again.

I've mulled this post over for a while. At first, I felt bad and all ashamed. I got over that. Then, I wasn't sure how to write about this because if I give you the full context, the full mitigating context, I will be breaking my new-ish rule not to blog about the whole dating-slash-relationship thing. The context, in addition, is not something I will share because I can't think of how to do it without making someone else look bad.

I therefore have decided to just tell you what I did, no excuses, no mitigating circumstances, and just allow you to squirm and groan at my epic fail. I will say this, at least: that I did not do this deliberately or with any intention of causing hurt. It just ... came out -- I'm an asshole, I'm not evil. I was trying to make the point that other things are more important.

Without further ado, I give you: how I broke up with my boyfriend.

Me, to boyfriend: "Sex with [not boyfriend] was the best sex I ever had, bar none, and probably will be the best sex I'll ever have."

He breaks up with me.

The End.

[smiles stupidly and scampers off the stage bowing repeatedly]

You may now feel better about yourself.

Oh my god.

Wow, this is one scary job. Thanks to Ian for the find. It seems he's wearing a helmet. Presumably the purpose of the helmet is to carry the camera, because seriously, what the heck good would a helmet do here?

See more funny videos and TBT Videos at Today's Big Thing.

Woooow!

Some gorgeousness to start you off with today:

Photo by Aaron Feinberg, Ocean Wave, Kauai. From the National Geographic International Photography Contest.

WOW!

Sometimes, I amaze even myself.

Yesterday, Sunday, was Willow's birthday. Willow is one of my very best friends in the world, she is super awesome, generous, welcoming, understanding, funny, courageous, and she has 2 cats. And she's kinda hot. So, practically perfect. Oh, and she's an excellent friend. We have known each other since law school, most of which time we spent talking each other off the ledge. We "did" the bar thing together, thankfully both passed the first time, thereby cementing our bond even further.

For the last week I have been thinking about what to get her for her birthday. On Saturday I practiced my loud singing, in anticipation of calling her. (Ok, I didn't, but I imagined it.) On Sunday, I went out and searched for a birthday card for about 30 minutes, found one, and then mulled over what to write in the card.

And I thought, check it out, I'm totally on top of this birthday thing this year. Because normally, I forget, call at the last minute or the next day, and eventually you might or might not get some kind of gift from me. So this time I was all, yeah baby, I have this friend thing DOWN! I'M AWESOME!

It might therefore surprise you to know that I then proceeded to forget to call her.

Good grief.

Ten Years

10 years ago today, I got my US citizenship. The ceremony followed 5 years of having a green card, and all kinds of paperwork, and an interview during which I was congratulated for having gone to Brown, but could I write down "I open the window" so that they could verify that I could write. Eh-hem.

The ceremony took place at the convention center, and there were 6,000 people getting their citizenship at the same time. It was pretty awesome. There was the pledge of allegiance, and the national anthem, and much waving of little American flags, and lots of people who clearly didn't speak English very well. Don't tell Arizona.

It's been a pretty awesome 10 years, actually, and I'm very grateful to be a citizen. And I've managed to stay on this side of the law THIS WHOLE TIME.